


to have and to hold

by hidley



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is having none of it, Crowley cries, Crowley has internalised self-hatred, Emotional, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff, Love Confessions, Love and Praise, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 15:24:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20194462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hidley/pseuds/hidley
Summary: Crowley’s breath hitched and he stared up at the angel towering over him. Aziraphale's eyes were impossibly soft, though his grip was anything but. He smiled down at him, hand reaching up to gently sweep the demon's sunglasses from his face and resting them on the shelf behind him."Oh, my dear," Aziraphale sighed as he brought his hand down to Crowley's cheek, sweeping across it in a caress so light it shot something tight and suffocating through Crowley's chest. "You don't have to pretend with me."





	to have and to hold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kaiisan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaiisan/gifts).

Crowley managed only a moment of self-restraint before he launched himself at Aziraphale and caught his mouth in a kiss. The angel surrendered beneath him so thoroughly that Crowley felt his back hit the bookcase behind him, rattling books to the floor.

A phantom protest rang through him for a moment, _Crowley, please! They are first editions!_, but it was silenced by Aziraphale curling his hands into Crowley's hair and smiling against his mouth as he breathlessly reciprocated.

Beautiful pressure rolled its way through Crowley's body as his hands, unbidden, wrapped around Aziraphale's waist and grabbed at his clothes. He gripped and pulled and pushed and he could hear the obscenities his mouth was spilling but could do nothing to silence them. Aziraphale was there, happy and gorgeous and _kissing him back_. He couldn't hold himself back if he tried.

He settled his grip on Aziraphale’s hips and squeezed them, hard. Pushing into the angel's mouth, he curled his tongue around Aziraphale's and delighted in the moan it pulled from deep within him. The hands in his hair tightened and gave a brutal twist in response that almost brought Crowley to his knees. Faltering for just a moment, his heart hammered as Aziraphale used the opportunity to press forward firmly and spin them around, pressing Crowley against the bookcase and tearing his mouth away to breathe against his mouth. Crowley’s breath hitched and he stared up at the angel towering over him. Aziraphale's eyes were impossibly soft, though his grip was anything but. He smiled down at him, hand reaching up to gently sweep the demon's sunglasses from his face and resting them behind him on the shelf.

"Oh, my dear," Aziraphale sighed as he brought his hand down to Crowley's cheek, sweeping across it in a caress so light it shot something tight and suffocating through Crowley's chest. "You don't have to pretend with me."

Crowley's chest heaved, his eyes wide and unblinking. The air cooled around them and he could feel his high sinking down, further and further until it pooled in his stomach and pulsed. He shuddered, tried to speak just one word but Aziraphale's hand was curling around his jaw and his mouth was on his once more, soft and unyielding. He tried to push back, tear the kiss into something less forgiving but Aziraphale merely swallowed his tongue and guided him into an embrace that was slow and tender.

Crowley whined in frustration and tried again, gripping Aziraphale's arms and twisting his head to reclaim some sense of control, but after indulging him for only a moment, Aziraphale moved his body in closer, pressing himself against Crowley's trembling form, and sank deeper, his lips moving like treacle, his fingers stroking through Crowley's thick auburn hair, working at the tension in his body like a baker kneading bread.

And then, all at once, Crowley surrendered. His shoulders slumped, back sinking further into the space behind him, and his head fell back against the bookcase, cradled by Aziraphale's palm. A last groan escaped his lips before the angel descended, capturing his mouth completely. He worshipped Crowley's lips and breath and deep exhalations, drinking it all in without a pause. He pressed in closer still and ran his hands across every span of Crowley's body he could reach, outlining the edge of his shirt and swallowing Crowley's gasp as he slipped underneath. Crowley's stomach flexed and shivered under his fingertips and as he followed the soft skin up, he savoured the fast hammering of the demon's heart underneath its ribcage.

His attention wavered, and Aziraphale pulled his lips away for just a moment as he marvelled at this body, which by all rights should mean nothing to either of them, but that had carried Crowley through 6000 years of humanity, and had sat beside his Bentley as his most valued possession since the dawn of this great age. Aziraphale couldn't help but press a kiss down upon its shoulder.

_Thankyou_, he blessed it. _Thankyou for keeping him safe._

"Angel." Aziraphale raised his eyes to Crowley's. The demon's expression was shattered, tears shimmering in his bright, yellow eyes and mouth parted around the only word he seemed to know. '"Angel."

"I love you, Crowley," Aziraphale said, aching at the tortured expression those words brought to his beloved's face. "You are everything I've ever sought to protect and cherish, even when I didn't want to admit it. You deserve all the things that I cannot give you. You deserve the love of our Lord, and of Her Heavenly Host, and certainly all the love contained within my own being." He stroked away a tear falling from Crowley's cheek. "I shall spend the rest of my days loving you, Crowley, if you should permit it." He leaned forward and pressed a single kiss to the demon's mouth. "I can only apologise I took so long."

"I - I can't-" Crowley choked. "I can't - angel, you can't know the things I -"

"You have always been exceptionally gifted," Aziraphale said, “in seeking out the ways in which you are unforgivable. But my dear, the only unforgivable thing is your blindness to how profoundly I know you, all of you, and I still see a being who is loving, and merciful, and curious, and good-"

"Not that," Crowley gasped, "never that-"

"You are good, Crowley. Kind. True. You never should have fallen-"

"Angel, _please_," Crowley surged forward, clinging to the angel's lapels. "Please stop. You don't know what you're saying. You can't question Her. You can't _Fall_."

"You are correct. I cannot. My dear, I have been brazenly and unapologetically loving you for 6000 years and not once have my wings turned a shade. If I were to be cast out of Heaven for fulfilling my most sacred purpose, don’t you think I would have been loving you from downstairs for a long while now?”

He received no response. Instead, the strength in Crowley's legs failed and Aziraphale scooped him up by his thighs and held him close as the demon shook, hands still curled in Aziraphale's jacket. Crowley's gaze fell somewhere just below Aziraphale's chin, pupils contracting and expanding like he was trapped in a dark room. The weight of him was nothing, and Aziraphale carried him over to the sofa, lying back upon it and coaxing Crowley's legs to settle around his thighs. Once he was settled, Aziraphale lay his hands on Crowley's arms and rubbed up and down, occasionally cupping his neck and jaw, waiting for him to return to him.

The bookshop creaked around them, and yellow light flashed into the space as a car crept past the window. It shone upon the varnished floor and reflected in Aziraphale's clear blue eyes. The city rumbled outside, people walking past the oak door without a glance, eyes passing over the "Open" sign as if it were an empty wall in a line of more interesting shop fronts.

Aziraphale watched the shadows move around his home as they fled, settled and uprooted from the desk to the coffee table. The books held their breath around them, a familiar scent hovering in the air. This had not been just his sanctuary since he acquired it back in the 1970s. For years it had slowly become his home with Crowley. The books and dust and wine spilled on the carpet had never been a singular effort, always a collaboration. These walls had been aged with the flux of their relationship and it fit them both like an old jacket. Just one Crowley would occasionally shrug off. Perhaps now Aziraphale knew why.

Gentle fingers moved across his neck and he looked down and fell into Crowley's startlingly clear eyes, which were fixed on his. He felt his own expression melt into adoration and he watched as Crowley softened in response. There was still guilt lingering on the lines on his forehead, but for now they were eclipsed by wonder and love. Unrestrained love. Aziraphale felt dizzy with it.

"Aziraphale," Crowley murmured, resting his forehead against the angel's.

"Crowley," Aziraphale breathed, closing his eyes against the demon's warmth.

The light flashed past. The people walked on by. The books exhaled.

**Author's Note:**

> The last time I posted anything to this site was two thousand and freaking FOURTEEN. This is what this show and these wonderful characters have done to me. How indecent. 
> 
> Anyway, I wouldn't have even begun to write this if it wasn't for the love and encouragement from Kaiisan so, ALL of the thanks and love to them and their own wonderful creations.


End file.
